I'm back with the rockstar who wrote:
"There is not one day when I don't think of you."
Yet my heart has grown cold.
The best kiss I ever had was with a girl. We're doing an exhibition together in late summer. She may be the only one on earth who actually gets me, with an identical lust for life and subsequent disappointments, including rockstar issues of her own. She's pure magic and I'm convinced she's the most inspired woman I have ever known.
I'm in love my husband again, because he is good to me. He is the only one I really love and always will, no matter how little or much we have in common. I'm the only one who knows how to love him, and he knows how to love me, and I'm still moved by our inexplicable connection.
When I die, what will become of my secrets?
2:05 p.m. - 2007-06-12